(First published in the Manawatu Standard and Nelson Mail, July 27.)
It’s been an extraordinarily turbulent few weeks in
international politics.
Two patterns have emerged. The first, which has been much
commented on, is that alienated voters are rebelling against the political
elites which, for the past couple of decades, have been calling the shots.
People are looking for something new from politicians. For
want of a better word, they seem to be looking for some type of authenticity –
a sense that politicians actually stand for something, even if it’s not very
well articulated.
In the US, this is obvious from the extraordinary
groundswell of support for Donald Trump. Trump’s campaign has been based on
simplistic slogans rather than clearly defined policies, but they strike a
chord with American voters who feel they have been neglected for too long.
Over on the left we saw a similar phenomenon in the
unexpected surge of support for the Democratic hopeful Bernie Sanders.
In ordinary circumstances the tag “socialist” is the kiss of
death to any American politician, but these are not ordinary times. The
socialist Sanders was able to mobilise enough of a following to give his rival
Hillary Clinton a hell of a fright on her way to the Democratic nomination.
In Britain, the political establishment got a bloodied nose
when voters decided, by a margin of 52 to 48, that they wanted out of the
European Union. This was another triumph for the “outsiders” in the form of the
United Kingdom Independence Party, or Ukip.
Ukip capitalised on a mounting feeling, outside the
prosperous bubble that is London, that Britons wanted to regain control of
their own country.
Brexiteers were characterised by their opponents as racists
who were concerned only about immigration, but there was much more to it than
that. The Britons who voted to leave the EU resented being governed from Europe
by bureaucrats over whom they had no control.
The EU originated as an idealistic plan to avoid the risk of
another European war, but it has grown to the point where it’s hopelessly out
of touch with the people whose interests it supposedly represents. It’s also
seen as undermining the autonomy of member countries and restricting their
ability to act in their own best interests.
Speaking of Britain, Jeremy Corbyn as leader of the Labour
Party is further evidence of disenchantment with the political status quo.
Corbyn’s a cloth-cap leftie who is not liked by his own MPs, but has the
backing of the party grassroots.
He may be unelectable, but people know what he stands for.
That counts for something.
Closer to home, Australian prime minister Malcolm Turnbull –
a bland, middle-of-the-road pragmatist in the same mould as John Key and David Cameron – called an election in the expectation that he
would be returned with a thumping majority and be rid of obstructive
individuals who had been making life difficult for him in the Senate.
As it turned out, his coalition government barely squeaked
back into power after a cliff-hanger election which saw the opposition Labor
Party restored as a political force.
What’s more, Turnbull will have even more contrary mavericks
to contend with in both the Senate and the House of Representatives. Talk about
shooting yourself in the foot.
Turnbull ousted his predecessor Tony Abbott in an
opportunist coup (many called it treacherous) last year, but ran a lacklustre campaign and must now be casting
anxious glances over his shoulder.
Many commentators have been saying that for all Abbott’s
failings, the former PM would have run a far more stirring campaign – one that would
have connected with voters in the conservative heartland.
Abbott, like Sanders, Corbyn and Ukip’s Nigel Farage, is a
conviction politician rather than one guided by focus groups and highly paid professional
strategists. Trump has convinced Americans he’s a conviction politician too, though it’s hard to
say.
Another is Pauline Hanson, one of the mavericks elected to the Australian Senate. Hanson is a conservative Queensland politician whose career has been built on her
outsider status.
That brings us to the second pattern to emerge from the
recent upheavals. It seems that in the eyes of some people, democracy is fine
only as long as it delivers the results they want.
Both the EU referendum result and Hanson’s election in
Australia triggered ugly, hysterical backlashes, mostly from people who probably think
of themselves as liberal.
In Britain, four million bad losers signed a petition
demanding that the referendum be held again. This is like the All Blacks losing
a test match 48-52 and demanding a replay.
In New Zealand, a loudmouth radio host wrote a newspaper column
arguing that people over 65 shouldn’t be entitled to vote (this, because older
Brits voted to leave the EU while younger people, many of whom were too lazy to
vote, wanted to stay in).
Similarly, the vicious media attacks on Hanson suggest the
liberal elites would prefer it if the people who support politicians like
Hanson were disenfranchised, presumably because they’re too thick and too redneck
to be allowed anywhere near a polling both.
But Hanson’s supporters are as entitled as anyone to vote
for whoever they think will best represent them. It’s called democracy.
